Sweetness
by Zskax
Summary: Hermione Weasley meets Astoria Malfoy on King's Cross when they're both waiting for their children, stood up by their husbands. They chat. Then they chat some more. And they see how much they enjoy each other.


Astoria Greengrass is light and summer days sprinkled with the smell of the sea. Her laugh is intoxicating, her form invigorating, and when she settles her attention on you it makes you feel very, very big and important.

Astoria Greengrass is nothing like her husband. She is not untrustworthy or paranoid. She is not perfection, but kind of reminds one of the abstract theories describing it.

Astoria Greengrass smiles at her when they wait for their children at the train station. She extends her hand to her and says, tone pleasant and trained, but sincere also in that serene kind of way, ''I am so happy to have caught you, Mrs Granger.'' Hermione doesn't even feel like contradicting this, just glad to have someone to talk to, ''I've read your recent theory on how children who wield magic from an earlier age have better results on their OWLs and their physical examinations. I've got some questions. If you don't mind of course – we can do it over tea sometimes.'' Astoria's smile never falters, even when Hermione looks at her with abject horror that a Malfoy is talking to her, but that brief micro-expression slips off when she realises that a MALFOY has read her theory and wants more information!

The train ride takes a long time to wait when you're alone, stood up by your husband because he's got auror business to attend – when waiting with a friend, on the other hand, it passes by you so fast that you absolutely _must_ reconvene at a later date!

So they do.

* * *

They meet over tea. They discuss science and theories and Hermione is delighted. Hermione is elated. Her fingers curl around a teacup held tightly in her tense hands, still sometimes known to shake when things get too intense and the memories resurface like unseen sledgehammers knocking down her walls of pretence. Their smiles are similar and Hermione is kind of thankful for that.

She's spent time with mothers and her smile is not motherly like Molly's or Andromeda's. The Brains of the Golden Trio is all fast, messy lines written on a parchment with a shaky hand that doesn't care can't care won't care about what the others think anymore. She is contrived when she is with the mothers and her smiles used to be forced until one tells her very sternly, the begotten Black sister, that she needs to stop pretending or it'll come back to hurt her.

She was tortured. Held down by a madwoman and hurt repeatedly while people watched, while Draco Malfoy held his mother close as a pillar to hold onto lest he collapse.

Her smile is filled with atrocity after atrocity all piling up like the stacks of paperwork on her clean desk. It is not a mother's smile like the rest of them.

This is why she is thankful, so incredibly grateful, that Astoria Greengrass shares her smile.

Hermione often wonders what Draco Malfoy says to his wife whenever they meet up, but she reckons it's along the lines of the same spiel Ronald spews in his wake at her.

Unnecessary drivel right now. Enjoy the moment. Hermione tells herself firmly and nods along to what Astoria says.

''Are you happy with your marriage, Hermione?''

She doesn't remember when they've started using their first names, but she knows Astoria is so much prettier to say than Mrs Malfoy.

''Yes.'' It's not a lie, but it's not true either.

''I am,'' Astoria says and Hermione feels envy and jealousy for a reason she doesn't understand. Like a theory she needs to repeat infinitely just to memorise half of it. ''Happy, that is.'' She smirks at the working witch and sips her tea with gentle grace. An angel with a halo. Beautiful, sweet Astoria.

''Good.'' Hermione chokes out. She looks briefly into her tea cup and echoes, ''That's good.''

''What do you tell Weasley when we meet up?'' Astoria fiddles with the diamond ring on her finger and waits patiently.

''I-I tell him the truth.''

''Indulge me.'' Astoria deadpans.

''I tell Ronald that you're my friend and that he should bugger off if he has a problem with that.'' Hermione says.

Astoria laughs. It's like seeing the sun rise, dawn showing you that there's a new day to mould into victory if the other one's a failure.

''Draco doesn't care, would you believe that?'' Hermione doesn't believe it, but it's rude to contradict a creature so genuine in her happiness. ''He just wants me to be happy. 'At least one of us has a chance at happiness' He makes me sad.'' Astoria hums and shoves a spoon full of honey into her tea. In a way it makes sense that sweet things are drawn to one another.

* * *

Their first kiss is not planned. Or maybe it is, she can never tell with the cunning woman cupping her chin gently and leading her towards bliss. She tastes like old wine, not something childish like a cider gobbled up under quidditch bleachers – impeccable and so, so saccharine.

''I love you.'' She whispers and watches the Slytherin smirk.

''I know.'' Astoria kisses her again and entwines their fingers.


End file.
